How to Save a Life
by terriblegrace
Summary: Pam receives a phone call from Jim after he's been gone for six months.


Pam Beesley found it hard to concentrate as she worked that day. It was quiet. No, not the literal kind of quiet that could drive a normal person insane. It was the kind of quiet that could only drive her insane. Sure, there was the steady hum of the computers, the hissing of the copier, and the ringing of phones. She heard the chatter of prices and discounts. She heard the murmurs of account numbers and misplaced decimal points. It was all there, like it was every day. Everything was operating as it should. Except he wasn't there again. And she was sure that he was never coming back.

She glanced over at his desk, but it wasn't his desk anymore. It was somebody else's now. It was a guy named Robert's, who had two children and a dog. He was nice, but not the same. He couldn't make her laugh, except in that forced way a person laughs when trying to be polite. Robert didn't find ways to dupe Dwight. He didn't try to find ways to entertain everybody when Michael was out of the office. Pam glanced over at the teapot on her desk. She couldn't take it home. Looking at it made her think that he was still there. But, no matter how many times she looked at that painted teapot, he wouldn't be there, holding it for her and smiling. He was gone.

Perhaps she should have foreseen this day. She should have understood that he would be leaving. He was always meant for bigger and better things than Dunder-Mifflin and Scranton, Pennsylvania. She had always just assumed he would be there for her. It had just seemed natural that whenever she needed a shoulder to cry on, he would pull her close. Or when she needed cheering up, he would be the one to make her laugh. Pam had always taken for granted those moments when she would glance up and see him sitting there. Those moments always comforted her. It made her sad now that he wasn't there.

The phone rang and she picked it up, pressing it to her ear. She spent so much time on the phone at work that when she got home, she never wanted to answer the phone. Her mother hated this and so did the telemarketers. She would just let it ring and ring until the answering machine picked up.

"Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam," she said.

"Pam? Pam Beesley?" a familiar voice said, "You mean, _the_ Pam Beesley?"

Her breath caught in her throat for a moment. It was him. It was Jim. He was finally calling after all this time. She wanted to scold him for not calling her. She wanted to be angry at him for leaving. She wanted to cry because she missed him so much and he would never know. Instead, she just smiled.

"Only the best receptionist this side of the Mississippi," she replied.

"I'll have to get an autograph," Jim replied.

"But that would require you actually coming back," she said.

There was a notable silence. He was thinking of something clever to say, and she felt terrible for her words coming out as bitter as they had. She hadn't meant to make him feel terrible about leaving. It wasn't her intention. She really was truly happy for him. Really. But, now hearing his voice, it made her think that things were back to normal. It was as if he had never left.

"So, what's up?" Jim asked, clearing his throat.

"Oh, you know, nothing too exciting," she replied, trying to sound flippant, "Michael got himself caught in his zipper and then asked me if I would check and see if it was okay. Phyllis sent me an invitation to her wedding-"

"Whoa, wait a minute. Phyllis? Is it Bob Vance? Vance Refrigeration?" Jim asked, doing an impression.

Pam tried to suppress a giggle, but it escaped out of her lips before she had time to catch it. He always made her smile; it was this innate connection in both of them. He would say something witty and she would laugh in response. When she first met him, she could tell that his jokes we rehearsed, and that he was intentionally trying to impress her. After a while, it just seemed so normal that she barely even noticed it at all. She cleared her throat.

"So, what have you been up to, Halpert?" she asked.

She imagined him shrugging as he said, "Nothing much. Chasing my dreams. Throwing caution to the wind. The normal."

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Pretty much stuck in another dead end job," he replied, with a laugh that was much more bitter than he intended.

_He's miserable,_ Pam thought as a smile formed on her lips.

She scolded herself. How could she smile at the thought of that? How could she be happy that Jim was miserable? She sighed. Perhaps it was because somewhere deep inside she wanted to believe that he was miserable because she wasn't there. It would have been nice to think that her existence in his life determined his happiness. But, that simply couldn't be the case.

"Oh, come on. It can't be _that_ bad," she replied, "I bet you're having a great time. No Dwight. No Michael. You're probably in heaven."

Jim paused, "It's fine," he replied shortly, deciding to change the subject, "So, who has my old job?"

Pam glanced over at Robert. She felt a deep sense of sadness inside of her. She used to glance at that same desk, and the sight of the person sitting at it would make her heart flutter. It would make her insides feel twisted and on fire. It would make her blush, thinking about all of the times she had intimately thought about the person. But now, she just saw a man that simultaneously reminded her of her father and a schoolteacher. A man that wasn't Jim.

Pam twisted in her chair so her back was to the rest of the office, "A guy named Robert."

"I bet he's tall, dark and handsome," Jim replied, "And all of the girls, including you, are swooning over him."

Pam laughed lightly, "Far from it. He's short, pale to the point of death, and nowhere near as handsome as…"

He heard her pause, wondering what she was going to say. She wouldn't continue her thought; she would just let it go. And he wouldn't press the issue. He wouldn't let himself think about what she could have said. He was tired of thinking about what could be.

"So, he's definitely no replacement, huh?" Jim teased.

"No," Pam said, twisting the spiral phone cord around her finger.

She glanced at her desk, and there were a few lights blinking as different calls came in. She simply ignored them. As she stared at the phone, she heard someone clear their throat and she looked up to see Dwight.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I'm expecting an important call today," he said impatiently, "And you're tying up the phone. Could you answer those?"

"Is that Dwight?" Jim asked on the other end.

"Unfortunately," Pam replied, "It's too bad you left and he stayed."

Jim smiled. She was becoming more brave in her taunting of Dwight. He had taught her well. So, his legacy would live on at Dunder-Mifflin. There was a sudden pang in his chest as he realized that Pam would always be there to carry out his legacy. She would never leave. But he had. And that was what hurt so much.

Sometimes he thought about how much it hurt. It literally hurt to get up in the mornings, to look at himself in the mirror. Sometimes he thought about her when he was driving to his new job or making breakfast in the morning, and he found it hard to breathe. He would just tightly grip the steering wheel or the kitchen counter until the tightness in his chest passed. He thought about her a hundred times a day. And then he thought about her a hundred more times at night.

"Who are you talking to?" Dwight asked suspiciously.

"You're not suppose to end a sentence with a preposition," Pam stated, blinking several times while trying to keep a straight face.

Dwight contemplated this for a moment, "Who are you speaking with?"

"Still a preposition," she replied, hearing Jim laugh on the other end.

Dwight grunted, then snapped his fingers, "With whom are you speaking?"

"Corporate," she replied.

"Good, I've been wanting to mention a few things to them," he said, reaching over and snatching the phone out of Pam's hand, pressing it against his ear, "Yes, who is this? I've been trying to get in contact with somebody there for weeks now. Nobody ever returns my calls. I've been…what's that?"

"I said, that's because we've been instructed by the government not to exchange information with you," Jim repeated, trying to change his voice.

Pam tried to suppress a giggle with the back of her hand as she saw the total look of confusion on Dwight's face. She could only imagine what Jim was saying to him on the other end.

"And may I ask why this is?" Dwight asked, shifting uncomfortably and glancing down at Pam.

"That's confidential, Mr. Schrute," Jim replied.

Dwight paused, "Wait a minute. That's not true. I got a company e-mail from corporate just this morning…" he drifted, and then realization hit, "Damn it, Jim."

"Hey Dwight, how's it going?" Jim replied casually.

"You shouldn't be calling during office hours," Dwight said, "It's a disruption. You don't work here anymore, remember?"

"I know-" Jim began, but drifted as he heard a loud rustle on the other end.

Dwight efficiently said good-bye and leaned over the reception desk to hang up on Jim. Pam's giggling ceased.

"Hey!" she cried out.

He placed the phone back onto the cradle and gave Pam a stern look. He didn't say anything more, just went to go sit back down at his desk. She felt like crying at that moment. Jim wouldn't call back, and she had to bite her lip to keep it from quivering. The tears were forming in her eyes. She hadn't even been able to tell him. She glanced back over at Dwight and he shook his finger at her.

Finally, she broke. She hurriedly stood up and made her way to the bathroom. Nobody noticed that she was upset. Nobody hardly ever noticed her. She stood in front of the mirror and sniffled, finally crying out in frustration. She sobbed there over the sink, her tears dropping in fast and fat plops onto the hard granite and down the drain.

* * *

She returned to her desk, hoping that nobody noticed how red her face had become. The florescent lighting did a good job of draining the color out of your face, so that when there was any indication of emotion, it seemed you were under a spotlight. But, nobody even looked up from their work as she settled into her seat. Glancing at the phone, she saw that there were four messages. She might as well go ahead and see what all of those people who had called wanted. Dutifully, she pulled out her notepad and pencil. Pressing the play button, she waited.

"This is George Bender. I was returning a call from Michael Scott. I was just getting in touch with him to let him know about our discount rates for office parties, as he requested. My number is…" he droned, and Pam sighed, wondering what Michael was planning for them this time.

The machine clicked on to the next message, "This doesn't seem right. I thought I was…oh hey! I was trying to call the Chinese place down the street, but I don't-"

Pam sighed, pressing the delete button. She poised the pencil over the notepad once more and waited for the next message.

"Pam, this is Dwight. You need to get off-"

She pressed the delete button before she had a chance to listen to the rest of it. Tossing her pencil onto her desk, she instead poised her finger over the delete button. She was sure the next message would be another one from Dwight demanding that she free up the phone. She rested her head in her hand and waited.

"So, I'm guessing Dwight did that and not you," she heard Jim's voice, and she immediately leaned in closer to hear the rest of it, scolding herself for going to the bathroom, "But, anyway, I probably need to get back to work. I'll give you a call tomorrow about the same time. Um, have a good day, Beesley."

Pam's heart ached deep in her chest. It stayed that way as she sat in a daze, staring at the phone. She hadn't noticed how much she missed Jim until she heard his voice again.

Okay, that was a lie. She thought about how much she missed him every day. She thought about that day when he had come to her and told her he was leaving. It was a better job in Chicago somewhere, but he wouldn't give her the specifics. She came to work the next day and he was gone. His desk was cleared off and she was heartbroken. He hadn't even told her that he would be leaving so quickly. There was no forwarding address, no last note of desperation or lust, no nothing. And now, six months later it was December and he was calling.

It was time for lunch, so she went to grab her lunch out of the refrigerator. She returned to her desk. Ever since Jim had left, she found it difficult to eat her lunch in the break room. It wasn't the same. It depressed her. So, she came back here where her desk was able to hide her disappointment, effectively shutting her off from the rest of the office.

She listened to the message again after she was finished with her lunch, and it made her smile. She sent a few faxes, gave Michael his messages, and did some spreadsheets on the computer. Glancing at her watch, she noticed it was still only two o'clock. Sighing, she glanced around the office before her finger hit the play button again. She smiled. She shredded a few papers, made a few copies at the Xerox machine, and answered the phone a few more times. She looked at her watch again. It was nearly time to go home. She straightened up her desk and grabbed her purse.

Standing, Pam couldn't help but look back down at the phone. She smiled at Kevin as he told her good-bye, and he passed out through the door. She gingerly pressed the play button again and had to bite back her smile. As the message ended, she pulled her purse onto her shoulder and strode to grab her coat before leaving.

* * *

That night, she couldn't sleep. She wanted to hear his voice again, and she had to keep herself from calling the office and listening to the message again. No, she would just wait until tomorrow at ten o'clock and be done with it. Only, she was anything but done with it. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. She heard his voice in her ears, ringing throughout her brain. And she hadn't even been able to tell him.

The only thing that kept her hopeful was the fact that he sounded miserable. Maybe he was considering coming back. Maybe he was going to tell her that he missed her and would see her in a few weeks. She knew she was being hopeful. She was always being hopeful when it came to Jim. She turned over.

_Jim left because he didn't care about you,_ she thought bitterly.

The moment she thought the words, she felt a searing heat in her chest. That wasn't true. He left because he thought he knew how things were going to end up. It didn't have anything to do with him caring about her. Because he did care about her, she knew that. She drew in a deep breath, easing the fire behind her ribs. It barely subsided. It would never go away as long as Jim was gone. She used to cling to the anticipation of seeing him for eight hours a day, five days a week. Now, she was grasping at the hope that he would call her the next day, and they would chat for a few minutes.

But, why would he call now after all that time? Every day had been torture for her. What was he doing in Chicago? Was he happy? Would he ever get in contact with her? And every day that went by, she became more and more lonely. Before, life for her could be categorized by the times she was in the office. Now, she didn't even have that. Sometimes she would have thought about Jim in Chicago, working at his new job. He would be smartly dressed, and of course, he would be the life of the office. Everybody there would love him. The guys would wish they could be him, and the girls would wish they could be with him. Maybe he would be with them. That part hurt the most. She imagined him going to work and liking it. Maybe the receptionist there wouldn't have been engaged and he could be with her. It made her want to cry. And often times, she did.

_He sounded miserable,_ she reminded herself.

And despite how bad she thought she was for thinking it, she kept reminding herself that it was a good sign. Sure, she didn't want Jim to be unhappy, but thinking that his life in Chicago wasn't as great as she had imagine it made her feel better. She was just grasping, though. She was trying to create something that didn't want to be created.

She was being hopeful again. And she had learned long ago that being hopeful was nothing more than wishing on a star that had burned out millions of years ago. It meant nothing.

* * *

It was nine-thirty the next morning and Pam nervously chewed on the end of her pencil. The taste of eraser had disappeared long ago, along with her nerves. She bounced her leg nervously, staring at the phone. Every now and then it would ring and she would hurriedly answer it, only to find it was somebody else, somebody less important. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dwight hoist himself up out of his chair and walk over to her. Hoping she could continue staring at the phone, and he would get that she didn't want him around, she focused her eyes intently. But, she sighed when he finally spoke up.

"So, Pam," he said, "What did Jim want yesterday?"

"I don't know," she replied, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms, "You hung up on him before I had the chance to find out."

"Well, you were breaking company policy," Dwight reminded her, thumping his finger on the desk.

There was a moment of silence between them. Dwight reached into the bowl on his right and grabbed a jellybean, popping it into his mouth. Pam looked up at him expectantly.

"Just try not to tie up the phone again today," he said, "I'm expecting an important call."

"I thought you were expecting an important call yesterday," Pam replied.

"I'm expecting one today as well," he stated simply.

"Do you get important phone calls everyday?" she asked.

"Sometimes, yes," he replied, popping another jellybean into his mouth, "I'm an important person, Pam. And important people get important calls."

She nodded, "Okay, Dwight."

"Good," he replied, "I knew you would understand."

He started off, but on second thought, turned back to grab another jellybean. He looked down at her for a moment before placing it carefully into his mouth. Looking around, he bent down to whisper to her.

"Did you tell him?" he asked.

"Tell him what?" Pam asked, nervously tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"That you didn't-"

The sound of the phone ringing effectively cut him off. He gave her another look of warning before he strode back over to his desk. He watched as she cleared her throat and answered it.

"Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam," she said.

"Geez, you sound like a bad commercial," Jim joked on the other end.

She smiled, "At least I get paid to say it. Makes the embarrassment more easy to live with."

"Oh, you shouldn't be embarrassed," Jim said, "You should feel honored to work at such a fine establishment as Dunder-Mifflin. After all, look at the diverse staff they have employed. Fascinating, really."

Pam scoffed, "Hardly. Or have you already forgotten?"

She could almost picture him nervously biting his lip on the other end as he said, "I haven't forgotten."

"Good," she managed to say.

It was coming. She could feel it. He was getting ready to ask her. He was getting ready to find out the answer to the question that he had probably thought about a million times since he left. After all, he had left at the end of May. She often wondered if he ever went on his trip to Australia that he had planned out so whimsically. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited. He was stalling, and they both knew it. He closed his eyes, his heart racing. In all honesty, he didn't want to know. He didn't want to find out the truth, about how her life had ended up happily ever after. However, he managed to summon the courage.

"How was the wedding?" he finally muttered.

That was when she smiled. She had pictured this moment a thousand times in her mind. She had thought over and over about how she would respond. Each time she became more and more bold with her reply. Each time she would add a few words to change the whole meaning. Sometimes she would say it lustfully, sometimes she would just say it as if she were mentioning the day's weather.

"Oh," she replied, as if caught off guard, "I didn't get married."

"What?" Jim asked, then repeated as if he couldn't comprehend it, "What?"

"Roy and I didn't get married," she replied, shifting the phone to her other ear, "I decided that I couldn't go through with it."

_Is it possible to be this happy and not burst?_ Jim thought, as his whole body seemed to shake with content.

"Really? How did he take it?" he asked casually.

"He was pretty angry," she replied, "He quit his job a few weeks later and went to work somewhere else."

"Wow," Jim said, unable to find anything else to say, "Wow."

"I know. I was just as surprised when I told him," she said, "I just thought about how dull my life had become. I thought about how much I used to wish for more. It seemed that at some point a long time ago I just compromised. And I didn't like it."

"So, The World's Longest Engagement is finally over?" Jim asked.

She laughed, "Yeah. And thankfully not because it ended in marriage."

"Hey Pam?" he asked.

She drew in a sharp breath, "Yeah?"

Pam was waiting for him. She was waiting for him like she waited for him the night on the booze cruise. All she wanted was some sort of spoken truth to it all. She wanted something solid, something that she could take for granted instead of just speculating over. The words she wanted to hear from him so badly had been stuck in her mind since the moment she had met him. They were there, like a line for an actor, but he never would follow the script.

"I love you," she heard him say, and he sounded so close.

She glanced up, and jumped, startled. He was standing there with his cell phone pressed against his ear, grinning down at her as he used to do. She gently put the phone down, and he slid his phone into his pocket. Grabbing a jellybean, he popped it into his mouth and chewed slowly and deliberately. She smiled, covering her mouth with her hand and dissolving into tears. He reached over the desk and grasped her hand, and watched her as she cried.

"Are you that upset to see me?" he asked.

Pam laughed in response, wiping at her eyes, "No. I'm happy."

He smiled down at her, gently rubbing his fingertips against the inside of her wrist. It seemed so natural to do it now, even though they hadn't seen each other in months. Strange, how they used to see each other every day and this same action wouldn't have seemed quite as right. Now, it felt so perfect.

"How did you know?" she asked, then stammered, "I mean, you must have known about it or you wouldn't have flown out here."

Jim didn't let go of her hand, didn't move to get closer to her. There would be plenty of time for that later. He just smiled down at her, and she felt her heart melt a thousand times.

"I made a call," he replied, shrugging.

She contemplated his statement for a moment, and he smiled when he saw that she was working his words through her mind. She looked beautiful when she was trying desperately to figure something out. Her eyes brightened as the realization hit her, and her cheeks became pink. She peered over the edge of the reception desk at Dwight.

"I told you I was waiting for an important phone call," he replied, giving a hint of a smile before clearing his throat, turning his face back into that of a stoic statue's, and returning to work.

"I love you," he said again, noticing at that moment that her hand trembled in his.

She smiled, "I love you, too, Jim."

Pam thought about how he had changed everything by leaving. Days before her wedding, it had at first disappointed her because he wouldn't be there to see her in her dress. After a while, it turned into something more of a revelation as she realized that with Jim now gone, she couldn't possibly go through with it. Him leaving had opened her eyes, and she had ended her engagement. Now, he was back for her. All of the things he had done, he probably thought that he had done for himself. But he had done it all for her.

It was how he saved her life.


End file.
